Coffee sonata, p.18
Coffee Sonata, page 18
“But can we repeat it?” Manon asked. “Can we do it again?”
“Are we supposed to repeat it?” Mike countered. “Perhaps we’re meant to explore further.”
“That’s brilliant, Mike!” Eryn exclaimed. “I think you hit the nail right on its freakin’ little head.”
“What do you mean?” Manon twisted on the small stool in front of the piano. “Just keep jamming?”
“Why not?” Eryn grinned. “We had a hell of a session, and it was our first. Can you imagine what we could find if we were completely unleashed?”
It was an almost frightening thought. Mike wondered if they’d find more of the same or risk losing it altogether. “I’m willing to try again,” she heard herself say.
“If Mike’s in, so am I,” said Vivian. “I can use the vocal exercise if nothing else.”
Manon looked back and forth at the other three, raising a trembling hand and smoothing her hair back over her bun. “I haven’t played with anyone else in years. It was fun to accompany Vivian the other day, and this…was amazing.” She glanced at Eryn and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it. “I want to find those tones again. I don’t usually exaggerate and I’m not doing it now. It was magical.”
Mike’s hands moved again. The hi-hat began to whisper, and soon the bass drum picked up a lazy rhythm, the toms finding a muted, echoing beat.
Eryn grabbed her guitar and hung it over her shoulder. The mother-of-pearl plectrum glittered between her fingers as they hovered above the strings. When the fingers of her other hand fell in intricate patterns down the neck of the guitar, the plectrum moved so quickly across the strings it became invisible.
Mike kept the hi-hat whispering but allowed the snare and the toms to dance, challenging their pattern with the insistent bass drum.
Vivian remained seated, but her voice still carried easily across the room. It wept; it cheered and howled, only to fall into a well of despair before Manon began climbing up, octave by octave, on the piano. She pulled Vivian with her, created a new atmosphere where Vivian’s voice reached new heights. The high voice found joy as it followed the piano, and when Eryn’s fingers climbed up also, chased by the hi-hat and the snare under Mike’s hands, Vivian let go of the last sorrow, and her voice became as clear as a spring well.
The sound washed over them, and Mike couldn’t hold back her tears. She wept because of her traumatic day, and because it broke her heart to watch Vivian sing in a way an audience might never hear. Still, as Mike hushed the hi-hat and let the bass drum slow down and become the last instrument to grow quiet, she knew Vivian had never counted on creating such music. I wonder what she’s feeling and thinking.
They remained silent for at least fifteen seconds. Eryn stood with her guitar in her hands, her eyes on Manon. “Beautiful is too imprecise a word,” she murmured finally, breaking the silence. “I don’t even know what to call this.”
“Music.” Mike cleared her throat, embarrassed.
“Yes, music,” Vivian said. “The very essence of it. I’m not being conceited, but to me, this was naked, unshielded music.”
“I reached the core of something,” Manon said. “I don’t know, but all those hours I practiced scales when I was a child finally made sense, and I certainly wasn’t thinking of music lessons or my teachers…I put my fingers on the keys…and played.”
“My guitar came to life. I moved my fingers where it told me to go. That’s all I can say. My shoulder still hurts, but when I was playing, I didn’t feel the pain.” Eryn shrugged and rolled her injured shoulder.
Mike watched her face but saw no sign of discomfort.
“Neither did I,” Vivian added. “My voice soared, and for the first time in quite a while, it was sheer joy to sing. I sang without inhibitions, without rules.”
And it made you relax enough not to feel the pain. Mike wanted to take Vivian in her arms and just hold her.
As if Vivian had read her mind, she rose and walked over to Mike. Placing her hands on her shoulders, she leaned down and gently kissed Mike’s forehead, twice. “Are you all right, cara? You look stunned.”
Vivian was worried about her. Mike had no idea why, but when she rose to assure Vivian she was fine, she felt light-headed and wondered if she was as pale as she suspected. I haven’t eaten all day. “I need a glass of juice. Can I get you anything, Vivian? Manon? Eryn?”
“It’s time for me to go home, actually,” Manon said, leaving the piano. “This was…amazing, though.”
“We should do this again. Soon.” Eryn slid out of the shoulder strap and placed the Stratocaster into its case. “Why not meet Saturday afternoon when we’ve rested after Mrs. Dodd Endicott’s party.” She looked questioningly at the others. “If you have time, Mike?”
“A few hours on Saturday? Sure, as long as it’s after the lunch crowd, I’m in. Vivian?”
“Certainly.”
They all looked at Manon, who in turn raised both hands with a half smile. “I surrender. Of course I want to play together again. This was fun.”
“Fun? It was amazing!” Eryn laughed. “If this continues, we’ll have to think of a name for our band.”
“Need a ride home?” Manon asked Eryn. “Guitar and all?”
“Yes, please, neighbor dear. I’d never miss an opportunity to ride in that beauty of yours.”
“Let’s go, then.” Manon walked up to Mike. “Thank you for letting us visit you. It was so nice to see how you live.” She leaned forward. “And to see that you’re doing okay.”
“You’re welcome. See you Saturday. Two thirty?”
“Sounds good.”
After Eryn and Manon left, Vivian said, “Go get that glass of juice, cara. You look pale and you’re trembling.”
“Okay. Can I get you anything?”
“Actually, I’ll go with you and you can teach me to make that wonderful espresso.”
Mike was relieved that Vivian wasn’t leaving yet. “All right.”
They moved into the kitchen where Mike instructed Vivian. “Never open the top if it’s hot. You press water through the finely ground beans with at least a fifteen-millibar pressure. If you open this you can burn yourself.” Mike pointed at the top lid she had just screwed tight.
Vivian nodded, and Mike continued to demonstrate how to let enough water press through the beans and how to steam milk to perfect foam. Then she handed Vivian a café latte and watched with amusement as she savored it, eyes closed.
*
Vivian opened her eyes and let the taste of the coffee blend with the sight of Mike’s dark eyes. “Your juice.”
After looking at her a few seconds longer, Mike pulled out a carton of orange juice and poured herself some. Vivian, unable to take her eyes off Mike as she drank in large gulps, could barely make out a drop of juice that escaped the corner of her mouth and ran down the side of her neck.
Vivian didn’t think. She put her latte down and slid her arms around Mike, licking the trail of orange juice from Mike’s neck and holding her close. “Oh, cara. Did you isolate yourself down here today because of me? Do you regret—”
“No!” Mike buried her face in Vivian’s hair. “No.”
“I was afraid. I had to see you, and Martha said you weren’t working. I thought it was because of me…us.”
Mike moved and Vivian found the small of her back pressed against the counter. Mike’s quick fingers moved in her hair, and one after another, her hairpins ended up in a small bowl.
Slippery masses tumbled down, and Vivian groaned with pleasure when Mike laced her fingers through it, combing the tresses and arranging them around Vivian’s shoulders.
“You sang so beautifully,” Mike whispered. “I’ve never heard anyone sound like that. It was hard to focus on my drums. I just wanted to close my eyes and let your voice move closer, surround me…command me.”
“Command you?” Vivian felt a twitch within, and her voice turned into a husky murmur. “How do you mean?”
“The way you sang was hypnotic.” Mike’s eyes turned impossibly darker, filled with emotions and dreams. “I wanted to surrender. Just give in.”
“To what, cara?” Vivian caressed Mike’s cheek. “You can tell me. You can show me how you felt.”
Mike leaned forward and slid a hand around Vivian’s waist. “Can I? What if I shock you? What if you say, ‘No more of this’?”
Vivian knew Mike’s fear was talking. “I won’t.”
She felt Mike’s body press into hers and it stole her breath, made her inhale deeply several times. “Please, Mike, don’t hold back. Show me everything. Show me how.” Show me yourself. Show me all those things I’ll never see again once you’re gone.
Mike caressed Vivian’s sides and her scalp. Mike balled her hands into fists full of hair, and Vivian tipped her head back to try and see at least something of Mike. Dark shadows outlined Mike’s features and created a mysterious puzzle of her face.
“Kiss me, Vivian.”
“Oh, yes.” Vivian raised her hands and framed Mike’s face. She angled her face and pressed her lips against Mike’s, vibrating with desire. As she parted Mike’s lips with her tongue and deepened the kiss, she tasted orange juice and something entirely Mike. Vivian whimpered into the kiss and felt Mike shiver as they clung together to keep from falling. The kiss erased all thoughts from Vivian’s mind except those of passion and lust, and a need so deep it frightened her.
“Cara,” she breathed into Mike. “Let me touch you. I need…to touch you.”
Mike drew a deep breath and reached for one of Vivian’s hands. “Here,” she whispered. “Here, Vivi.”
She ripped open her shirt with the other hand and pushed Vivian’s hand inside. Vivian held her breath as she filled her palm with Mike’s breast. The hard nipple tickled her, and Vivian instinctively closed her hand on the soft roundness and rolled the nipple between her thumb and index finger.
Mike gave a muted cry. “Vivi, please…”
And Vivian knew it was too late to stop now. Much too late.
Chapter Sixteen
The evening was pleasant, with an unusual calm, despite East Quay’s reputation for being beyond windy. “Watch out for the wind, girl. It’ll take your head off,” her father used to joke when Eryn left for school in the mornings. He wasn’t wrong. The exaggeration held some merit, since the wind had actually blown her off her bike and into a garden, crushing Mrs. Jenison’s award-winning rhododendron when she was twelve.
Now, Eryn stood outside Manon’s car after she’d closed the door and didn’t feel the faintest breeze. She blamed her vivid imagination for her fancy that perhaps nature was holding its breath for her sake. Eryn just wanted to level with Manon, to tell her how she felt up front and get it over and done with. But still, she tiptoed around Manon, afraid to unsettle her, to drive her away. The situation was driving her crazy.
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Manon walked around the car she’d parked by the curb outside their building.
“Yes, it is.” The street was practically abandoned, as if she and Manon were the last two people on Earth. “But it’s a little eerie too. So desolate. I mean, it’s only eight o’clock.”
“Yes. I’m going inside.”
“Right behind you.” Eryn followed Manon to the elevator. They had driven back in silence, and Eryn was still engrossed in the strange—amazing, but strange—event that had taken place. At first, she had found it almost too much to talk about. “That wasn’t half bad, was it?”
Manon pressed the button for the elevator, turned around, and leaned against the wall. “It was amazing.” Her low voice created goose bumps on Eryn’s arms and thighs.
“We’ve stumbled on something unique.” Eryn pressed the buttons for floors three and four. “It’s worth exploring, Manon. And did you see how Vivian related to Mike? They’ve grown very close these last few weeks.”
“They seem to have become good friends, yes.”
Eryn had to laugh at Manon’s proper reply. She really has no gaydar. “There was nothing friendly in the way Mike looked at Vivian, babe.” The sassiness was over Eryn’s lips before she had time to think.
Manon blinked but didn’t avert her eyes. “No?”
“No.”
“How did she look at her?”
The elevator stopped at Eryn’s floor, and she pushed the gate open to keep it from moving farther. “Pretty much the same way I look at you,” she said, her voice low. “With admiration…but also desire.”
Moving closer to Manon she placed a hand on the wall next to her head. “I know the feelings well.” Eryn leaned in and kissed Manon’s closed lips. She didn’t deepen the kiss; instead she slid her other hand inside Manon’s tweed jacket and let it rest against Manon’s waist while she kept her prisoner with her lips.
“I know exactly what Mike wants to do to Vivian,” Eryn whispered against Manon’s mouth. “I just didn’t know that Vivian’s gay.”
“Neither did I. Is she?” Manon closed her eyes briefly and sounded dazed.
“I don’t know. I wonder if Vivian herself knows.” Eryn nibbled along Manon’s cheek, down her neck. Her hand did a little traveling on its own and ended up just below the curve of Manon’s breast.
They both stopped breathing at the same time. “Eryn,” Manon whispered.
“Vivian would have to be made of stone to resist Mike.” Eryn placed her lips to Manon’s ear. “I hope she can see into Mike’s heart and be careful, however she responds. Mike’s been burned. Several times.”
“Haven’t we all, at one point or another?” Manon placed her hand on Eryn’s shoulder.
Eryn wasn’t sure if the gesture was meant to keep her at bay or draw her closer. “Yes, we have. But you don’t gain anything from hiding. You may think you’re safe if you don’t rock the boat, but it’s not true.”
Manon shivered and squeezed Eryn’s shoulder harder. “Eryn. This scares me.”
Eryn realized that Manon didn’t volunteer this comment easily. “I’ve got you.” She pressed her mouth to Manon’s again, and at the same time, she moved her hand an inch upward and cupped the underside of Manon’s breast. Briefly slipping her tongue inside Manon’s mouth, she found its counterpart there, unexpectedly eager. The kiss lasted only a few seconds longer, while Eryn cradled Manon’s breast fully. She felt Manon shudder and gently pinched the raspberry-sized nipple underneath the bra, which made Manon gasp.
Eryn finally stepped back and reached for her guitar before pushing the outer door of the elevator open. She wanted nothing more than to take Manon back into her apartment and show her just how good they could be together, but all she did was smile and push the gates closed. “See you at the Dodd party tomorrow. Night.”
Eryn looked at Manon just before the gates closed completely. Her eyes were the same dark gray that they’d been in Eryn’s apartment the night she first played for her. And the conflicting emotions obvious on Manon’s face were even more intense than they’d been that night.
Eryn knew she’d taken a big risk, again, with Manon. But her gut told her that if she gave Manon too much space, she’d begin to rationalize, eventually find a perfectly sensible reason for her own reaction, and pull back. I have to keep her off balance as much as possible.
Eryn turned the key in her door lock, hauled her guitar inside, and placed it carefully against the wall. We created music today! And Manon was part of it, and just as taken as everybody else. Eryn knew their shared creation might work in her favor. If Manon was as moved with the musical experience as Eryn was, she’d want to repeat it.
Eryn usually disliked dressing up for formal functions, but this time she looked forward to it. I have to find time tomorrow to go to Genevieve’s, no matter if I max out my Visa card. I need a dress.
*
As Mike slid her fingers inside Vivian’s button-down shirt and created small, fiery patterns on her stomach, Vivian went from warm to sizzling in seconds. She’d never responded this quickly, or this hotly, before.
“You smell so good,” Vivian murmured. Her right hand still on Mike’s naked breast, she circled Mike’s waist to hold her closer.
Mike tugged gently at Vivian’s hair and coaxed her to raise her head. Their lips met again, and this time Vivian plunged her tongue into Mike’s mouth, devouring her with a sob. Vivian’s legs trembled, and a heavy feeling between them emphasized the increasing wetness there.
She couldn’t stop undulating as she moved against Mike, spreading her legs and tasting soft lips. Her hand, still pressed against a woman’s, Mike’s breast, tingled. The firm mound with its rigid nipple felt both delicate and supple. Vivian massaged it gently, afraid to accidentally do something wrong, but Mike pressed into the caresses and moaned aloud.
Mike broke free from the kiss but remained close enough for Vivian to feel her hot breath on her face. “Vivi, yes, touch me. I’ve dreamed about this. I need it.”
“Like this?” Vivian let her fingertips slide in an outward motion along the pebbled nipple. “Does this feel good, cara?”
“Wonderful. More than good. Don’t…stop.”
“I won’t.” Vivian’s heart sped, and drops of sweat ran between her breasts and along the back of her neck. “I need to take my shirt off,” she managed. “It’s too hot in here.”
“Yes. Too hot.” Mike tossed her shirt on the floor and left her breasts naked and exposed. As she pulled Vivian toward her and made short history of her shirt also, Vivian became aware of her own silk camisole and white, not very sexy bra. Counteracting gravity, it was designed to hide the fact that she wasn’t seventeen anymore and was carrying a few extra pounds. Shy and self-conscious, she felt utterly foolish.
She wasn’t usually physically shy. For many years, before her prima donna assoluta status was confirmed, she’d had to share dressing rooms with many other women, sometimes in very cramped places. And she wasn’t very shy, period. She rarely blushed.
